The Promised Place
by fadedSorrow
Summary: No matter what tears us apart, the heart will always lead us back to the promised place. After a small accident, Clare finds herself in Teresa's subconscious world, coming face to face with the person that is most precious to her. Their literal walk down memory lane will help both of them move on and create the most cherished moments to come.
1. Chapter 1

Miria gritted her teeth and swung her Claymore swiftly to parry the flurry of slashes from the Windcutter, only barely being able to par up with the speed that had dramatically improved since the last time she sparred with this person, which was indeed quite some time ago. It didn't help that the area they were in was not exactly familiar to her, but seemingly had been the daily training grounds of her opponent. Miria was constantly forced to take quick glances behind before focusing back to the warrior in case she got driven into a corner, which would definitely lead to an imminent and premature conclusion to their practice. Neither could she afford to divert her attention for too long- even a slight distraction on her part could allow her opponent to get the upper hand. Then again, she had expected nothing less from her partner and friend.

'Stop messing around and get serious Miria.'

She smirked at the challenge posed, mildly amused that the scowl on the girl's face was so discernible even with the blonde bangs over her eyes, the relentlessly snow falling, and her need to concentrate on the powerful blows slashing towards herself more than anything else. She did however also manage to detect a slight stiffness in the opponent's left arm, seeing as she barely swung it and at times was appeared to be even protecting it, almost as if it was a weakness. Though she decided to dismiss it instead of using it to a potential advantage. After all, they were both here to train their respective techniques.

Stealing a last glance at her back, she turned back to her opponent and waited a millisecond for the perfect timing, right when the warrior thought she had the split second window to swing her blade at Miria's opening-

-and before blade could touch flesh, at that very moment, Miria was already out of the path of destruction, a few feet away from the attacker who had ended up slashing the snow-covered rock form, with only a phantom-like mirage in place of where Miria originally was cornered.

Phantoming herself out of danger only a hair fraction before her opponents could savour their sweet taste of victory was something Miria had come to enjoy. It wasn't as if it was something new- the countless battles had forced her to do so time after time, for survival. But it was different from what she was doing now- this was a deliberate action, even going through the trouble of waiting till the attack was so close that she could practically imagine it impaling through her flesh, much like just now. She knew that it was risky, that should she grasp the wrong timing or happen to screw up, there would severed limbs and brutal injuries to come. Then again, this was practice. She could at least let loose a little and enjoy herself, if anything. As she turned to look, the pile of snow that slid from the top landed on the attacker's head, only serving as a bonus to her silent triumph. Her comrade, however, was anything but anywhere near amused. The scowl now was radiating with annoyance, which was somewhat amusing. She suppressed the rare urge to laugh.

'You did that on purpose didn't you.'

She couldn't help but smirk. 'Can't say I didn't'

Instead of adding on to the fury, she saw a gradual change in expression as a slight curl at the corner of the lips replaced the pursed ones from before. She returned the rare smile from Clare, knowing that her friend would never be upset over such a silly thing.

It had been quite some time since the seven of them had went into seclusion in the North. Every single one of them was forced to adapt to their new environment and identities as defectors. She knew that Clare was one of them who had to struggle the most in this new situation they got themselves into- having to suppress their Yoki to naught, erasing any trace of their presence to hide from the Organization- truly as Seven Ghosts of the North who survived the Pieta War. Yet, Clare's most formidable move, the Quicksword, was one that depended so much on Yoki. Of course, Miria herself had to modify her own pet technique, the Phantom Mirage, which also relied on Yoki bursts to execute. Nevertheless, she was truly glad, deep down, that her friend's new move, the Windcutter, was showing so much improvement. She knew how hard Clare trained- or perhaps, she only knew a fraction of her diligence. The Windcutter was far from perfect for now, but she definitely knew was that Clare was only going to get better, and stronger.

'Your Windcutter has gotten faster. I was actually surprised by the increment in speed. You could even say that it caught me off-guard.'

'You could say the same about your New Mirage. I truly thought I was going to maim my own leader.'

'You could always try. Though I must say, you no longer have the element of surprise as an advantage.'

'Each to her own.'

Miria widened her grin. Truthfully, sparring with Clare was one of the only times where she could actually put aside the 'leader' front and allow the perhaps, less serious side to surface. It wasn't as if she had to put on a facade in front of the rest. It was just, perhaps she felt the most comfortable with Clare, somehow.

Though, as much as she regarded Clare as a close friend, Miria found herself sadly still far away from Clare's deepest, darkest and most locked away emotions and past that she kept so well hidden from everyone else. She had never voluntarily talked about it- and neither did Miria think that she would be doing so anytime in the future. The only thing they knew was her thirst for revenge, an ever-raging flame in her beneath that emotionless front. And of course, that masked pain that was reminiscent of every single one of them.

Though at least to Miria, the pain that Clare was hiding was so searing, so obvious that it almost felt like there was an open wound on her. Whatever that was burdening her was the same reason for the sheer sorrow that illuminated in her eyes in the quiet moments where she let her mask off. Miria had captured those fleeting moments a couple of times, but she knew better than to press Clare. They all had secrets and demons of their own to deal with, and Miria herself was no exception. She could only hope that one day, she would be able to take a glimpse into Clare's world, and that her friend would allow her to shoulder her burden together. Because she wanted Clare to know that she wasn't alone- that she had friends who cared.

Miria shook herself out of her thoughts and decided to focus on assessing her surroundings. The place they were in seemed to be a miniature valley, which was relatively narrow in width but stretched a pretty long way in length. What caught her interest were the numerous individual boulders that were near the top of the valley, and countless other empty holes, where she presumed were once filled with boulders. At one end of the valley, there were tons of these giant boulders stacked upon one another in a messy, dangerous-looking array. It looked almost as if a single movement of one boulder could trigger quite a rockslide. This was indeed a queer place to train, and she started musing over Clare's location choice. Maybe...

'This training ground of yours... You're using the naturally existing boulders to your advantage aren't you?'

Clare nodded. 'Sharp as always, Miria...'

'Well, I do have a little conjecture. Your idea of training is to knock those individual rock forms hard enough such that the boulders start to collapse and fall... And at that instant, you leap above it to execute your Windcutter to destroy the boulder as much as possible before it hits the ground. It forces you to up both your speed and intensity of strikes.'

Clare's eyes widened slightly. 'That... was a really good guess Miria. I had to ponder over the plan for many days after discovering this area...The only thing that differs is that I would be _below_ the boulder instead of above...'

'Below it? That's pretty dangerous...'

Miria narrowed her eyes at such a dangerous notion. She was suddenly reminded of the strange observation she made of Clare's left arm and something clicked in her mind.

'Don't tell me... A boulder crashed into your left arm?'

Another surprised look from Clare confirmed her guess.

'I thought I hid it pretty well... It was just that once that got careless and didn't manage to get away in time.'

'Is your injury giving you any problems though? You're lucky it wasn't your dominant arm... this training of yours is high-risk and borderline reckless you know.'

Clare merely shrugged. 'It will be fine... I suppose. And well, at least this form of training it makes me feel the adrenaline rush and pressure to move my arm faster and harder. It's the only way I can think of to hasten my speed training. I have to get stronger, after all…'

Miria could only sigh. It was typical of Clare to push the limits, or rather push _her_ limits. But then again, Miria herself wasn't any much different either. In fact, all seven of them were doing the same- trying their very best to become as strong as possible. All in preparation for their ambitious plan...

On a side note, she wasn't exactly convinced about the condition of Clare's arm. It was more likely that her friend was understating the severity to dismiss her concerns. Nevertheless, she decided to let it be, since it didn't appear to be too much of a hindrance. Or so she hoped.

'Alright I guess we had enough of idle chat. Ready to go again?'

Clare assumed her stance, sword at the ready.

'Whenever you are.'

'Right... I won't go easy on you even with your injury.'

'And I expect nothing less. Let's go!'

Both of them leaped at each other at full force as their swords clashed once again, the resounding clinking of metal against metal mightier than the howling wind. Miria wasn't holding back anymore though, not when her opponent was Clare, and not when this fight could turn out to be the most engaging one she had had in awhile.

They went at each other again and again, speed matching speed, blade meeting blade. The rigor and heat of the battle was exhilarating, and Miria could feel that both of them were enjoying it as much as the other, yet unwilling to lose the fight, which made them even more determined to subdue each other.

Their battle had dragged on for quite awhile when at one moment, she abruptly got the feeling that Clare was a little distracted. She was trying to figure out the reason when she suddenly felt an unwarranted presence nearby. Two of them, actually. She couldn't feel any Yoki, but there was definitely someone else other than the two of them in this place. Could it be an enemy? They have roamed the cold lands all these years without being discovered or finding anyone else other than themselves. If it was someone from the Organization, surely she would have felt their Yoki? Unless the warrior was a master at suppressing Yoki…

Then again, it could also just be the other Ghosts who managed to find the both of them. They would sometimes take time to watch each other's sparring to help one another improve. And because of them suppressing their Yoki for years, it was almost impossible to sense them by their Yoki signature anymore. But Miria couldn't be sure. And she didn't particularly want to take that risk.

Her eyes darted sideways quickly to find that they had unknowingly shifted their position so much that they were now right at the base of the mountain of boulders. She had a very bad feeling in her chest, something that could only be deemed as an ominous premonition. The distraction almost cost her a slash to her shoulder as she brought her own sword up just in the nick of time to deflect the blow. She forced herself to pinpoint the location of the unknown intruder.

'Miria… Do you sense it?'

'Hold on for a moment.'

Phantoming herself upwards, she leaped towards higher ground to scan the white lands above the valley. It brought great relief to her when she identified the two familiar figures right beside the highest of the boulders.

But at the next instant, her blood turned cold when she saw two blades slashing down on the boulders, causing the top boulder to dislodge. That single action was enough to cause a ripple effect downwards, with groaning and grinding sounds of earth against earth filling the air. The speed at which the countless boulders started cascading down was devastating, almost unearthly.

She almost felt her heart stop as she remembered her friend that was directly in the path of destruction.

'Clare get out of there!'

In a split second she phantomed her way back down, feeling the vibration of the entire area as the deafening tumbling of boulders continued. She willed gravity to propel her downwards faster, stretching her arm out desperately to reach her comrade.

Everything was happening so quickly, but closing the distance between her and Clare felt so frustratingly long. She saw Clare turning away from the boulders rushing towards her to face Miria, a tensed expression on her face. She didn't understand why Clare stood rooted to the ground, as if she was oblivious to the danger heading towards her. It didn't occur to her that it was because Clare _couldn't_ move. It felt like everything was in slow motion as she reached out for Clare's left arm, which was raised feebly towards her. Miria could almost feel a heavy weight off her chest when she finally managed to grab Clare's arm as she immediately called upon her technique and phantomed-

Yet, at that very same instant, she felt the very same person who she had been gripping recoiling from her, tearing her grip away from Clare's arm. Clare's face twisted into boundless agony as she dropped her Claymore, her right hand clutching her left arm as she fell to her knees-

_No!_

She was too late. She felt herself being pulled away from Clare, her own blood-curdling scream echoing through the valley. Her frenzied eyes widened as she felt her limbs weakening. She felt something in her dying as she witnessed the boulders engulfing her friend, stacking upon one another till there was no trace of the warrior left.

'CLARE!'

* * *

Though I should really focus on my other fic, I just couldn't get the idea of this fic out of my head. Will update the other fic soon! Anyway, the title of this fic is inspired by the japanese theme song for FFXIII-2, The Promised Place. Apologies if the action parts are lacklustre, not really good at them. Hope the subsequent chapters will make up for it. Clare's POV for subsequent chapters!


	2. Chapter 2

_'Clare...'_

Clare lifted her eyelids ever so slightly and almost squinted them shut at the daylights that entered her eyes. She could smell the familiar wisp of nature- the earth, the grass, the air. Allowing her eyes to adjust to the brightness, her view was filled clear blue skies and fluffy clouds floating by. It was the only thing that she could see while lying down, after all. The strong breeze blew hard at her, caressing her cheeks with a certain tenderness and whipping the tall grass that was around her.

Lifting herself up with her arms, she looked all around to find herself in an endless expanse of grassland, the fields spreading to what seemed like infinity with no boundaries. It was breathtakingly magnificent. The serenity was what captivated her most of all. There was nothing but the gentle singing of the wind and the sound of tall grass flailing against one another. It was the kind of peace and quiet that fit her- the serendipity that she yearned for. It was then that she realised that everything seemed a little dream-like- a little shimmering and glittering, a little too surreal and perfect to be real. Then again, this was probably just a dream after all.

_'Clare..'_

It was the voice that awoken her. The voice that was blended with the wind, almost as if it was part of it. She had thought it was merely a figment of her imagination, but it had called out to her yet again, and with greater volume too. Most of all, it had sounded all too dear and nostalgic- it sounded like _her_ voice. The voice of the one person that gave meaning to her life. The voice of the one person who was the reason why she was still fighting.

_'Clare.'_

The sound was becoming nearer, almost as if it were approaching her. She lept to her feet and spun all around, desperate to find the source, her heart squeezing with anxiety. But all she could see was the never-ending grassland.

'Clare.'

Suddenly, the voice came from right behind her. It wasn't like the previous times, where it sounded like the wind. This time, it sounded really human. And sounded exactly like...her.

_Could it be?..._

Clare turned her head around slowly, gulping the brimming emotions down. The conflict she felt inside was madness. A part of her wanted it to be her so damn badly, yet the other part of her was so frightened that her hope would be utterly crushed to mere dust. In short, she was very, very terrified, even though she knew that she couldn't be mistaken. It was the voice that had been etched in her mind ever since Clare met her. The voice that resounded in her head everyday for the past so many years whenever she recalled the only memories they had together. The voice that she thought she would never get to hear ever again.

The person was fully in sight, standing just a few steps away from her. Clare felt her heart flip with recognition as she gazed into those silver orbs that was staring back into her very own. The long tresses of blonde hair were blown to her right, dancing with the wind. She was wearing the one uniform that Clare had ever seen her in- the Organization wear, with her unmistakable sign at her neck, and her Claymore strapped to her back. Above all, the one trait that distinguished her from all- the famous faint smile that hung at her lips. She was exactly as Clare had remembered- just as perfect.

Clare's own lips parted as she felt her every pore screaming for her to embrace the person in front of her. She mouthed her name gingerly, then managed a soft voice that was unfortunately masked by the wind. She could already feel herself quivering under the feelings that were threatening to burst out of her. She mustered whatever voice that was still in her and cried out.

'Te...resa?'

She could hardly believe that the insecure and unsure voice that came out of her mouth was her own. It had been long since she had felt such doubtful and unsettling feelings. It was ironic, seeing as she was facing the person that mattered most to her in the world.

Teresa's smile widened as she tilted her head sideways. She extended her right arm towards Clare, her hand welcoming Clare's to grasp. Clare took a deep breath as she stared at Teresa's hand, her own already reacting as she felt herself taking trembling steps forward, her hand reaching out to meet Teresa's. Her heart flipped with each step that brought her closer to Teresa. As their hands made contact, she felt Teresa's clasping hers immediately, the warmth and familiarity rushing back to her and knocking the breath out of her. The last thing she saw was Teresa's smile and loving gaze on her before a blinding light engulfed the both of them and she felt herself being warped into somewhere else. She knew she should be worried, but somehow it was the last thing on her mind.

Because the hand that stayed entwined with hers reassuringly was more than enough for her to know that everything was going to be alright.

Because with Teresa, there was nothing in the world to fear.

Because with Teresa, she was home.


	3. Chapter 3

_My wish had been a simple one._

_To be together with Teresa, always._

_It had been such a simple wish, _

_Yet the tragedy of the aftermath that the one wish had caused,_

_Was something that I would never be able to make up for._

_If I could ever meet Teresa once more, _

_For just one more time,_

_I would-_

Clare felt herself wake up, feeling her head lying on something that didn't feel quite like the ground. Her eyes fluttered open but everything was pretty blurry, owing to the fact that her mind was still groggy with sleep. She tried to rub the sleepiness from her eyes, only serving to further blur her vision. Deciding to close her eyes to rest for awhile more, she abruptly tensed as she felt something caress her forehead. Her eyes shot open with shock. Through the blur she could make out a face staring down at her, the lips of the person curling up. Her slowly regaining vision finally registered the identity of the person and though her heart was skipping in elation, her warrior instincts went on autopilot.

Leaping away from where she was, she backed up against a wall to distance herself as much as possible from Teresa, despite how ironic it sounded. As much as all the emotions in her were screaming for her to just go forward and embrace that person, the situation just seemed...wrong. It felt too ideal to be reality, yet too tangible to be just a dream.

For one, the idealistic part was that Teresa was actually _here_.

It wasn't as if she never had dreams of Teresa- She often did, all those fleeting scenes and moments with Teresa which were blurry and random, nothing concrete or reality-like. They were all unlike now, where she could actually feel herself physically in the now and here that was, supposedly, a dream. Which was the tangible part of this 'dream'- She was actually _feeling_ her two feet carrying her weight on the hard ground, the solid wood against her back and the merciless temperature of the day.

Was that even possible? Was she trapped in an illusion? She wrecked her brains to remember what had happened before this. The memory of sparring with Miria resurfaced bit by bit. Her left arm had been alternating between aches and numbness ever since a boulder smashed onto it the previous day. She didn't think it'll affect her that much until after that one time when she instinctively swung her Claymore with both hands, despite constantly reminding herself to only use her right arm. Right after that, an electrifying pain shot through her entire left arm, rendering her paralyzed momentarily. And when Miria grabbed that arm, she recoiled from Miria's grip from the sheer pain… and then the boulders that were racing upon her…then nothing. Right after that she found herself in that stunning field of grassland where she saw Teresa... and now here?

Could she actually be…_dead_? She had no idea what in the world was going on. Previously at the grassland, she had allowed herself to bask in the presence of Teresa on the premise that it was just a dream- But now her mind was clearer and forced rationality into her too. It forced her to think about survival. Not that Teresa was a threat, but being in a very strange situation alarmed her tremendously.

Amidst the confusion in her head, she instinctively proceeded with her first course of action, which was to get her bearings. Scanning the area she was in, she couldn't help but feel the nostalgia hitting her at full force as she realized where she was. Despite the short period spent there, everything was as she remembered- The two single beds, the intricate decorations, Teresa. It was the posh lodge that they were staying at before the four warriors had come for Teresa. The four warriors including Irene, and two other warriors whose names she didn't knew.

More than anyone, _her_ name came into mind. The name that reverberated in her head with pure hatred every single day.

_Priscilla._

The mere thought of that name stirred some sort of anguish inside, and she squeezed her eyes shut to will herself from thinking about what happened soon after they came. She opened her eyes again to see the smiling Teresa who was sitting on the bed all the awhile. In the back of her mind Clare realized that she had been lying on Teresa's thigh when she woke up, just like she had done in the past. The person here, she was undoubtedly Teresa, that Clare knew. But how could it be? How could all of these be so...real?

It was also only then that she realized that she seemed nearer to the ground than usual, and that she could actually see orange long strands of hair flowing down both sides of _her_ shoulders. She gasped as she brought her hands up to see smooth and pale skin, so unlike the rough and beaten ones she had. What she was wearing was not her warrior uniform but instead...the red overall that Teresa had bought for her. Her mind was swept with confusion as she tried to figure out what was going on, a rising anxiousness in her chest.

'Seems like you've finally woken up… But I have no idea why but you looked more tensed than a threatened cat, Clare. Calm down a little would you?'

Teresa stood up from the bed and started striding towards Clare. Instinctively, she reached for her Claymore that was usually hoisted on her back. The bad news was that it was non-existent at the moment, her hand grabbing the empty air instead. Panic rose in her, even though she knew that Teresa would never hurt her. But years of being a warrior had drilled in her some sort of reflex action to potential danger. Mostly, she just wasn't used to just seeing someone who had already been gone for so long alive in front of her, or in this case, _walking_ towards her. Even if she had been missing this very person every single waking moment of her life.

Soon Teresa closed the distance to tower over her now-small frame. Having reverted to her child physique, she was once again half of Teresa's size. Before Clare could react, Teresa had already pulled her into an embrace, her arms wrapping tightly around Clare. She found herself engulfed in the loving warmth and comfort of her sisterly figure, every scent and touch all too familiar, evoking all the bottled up emotions inside. This feeling... She thought she could never experience it ever again. It was almost as if she was relieving the past, in real time.

Too overwhelmed by all the feelings, she trembled as she felt a hot stinging at her eyes. Her heart was swelling to bursting point and her chest was drowning with emotions. She knew she couldn't hold everything in for any much longer. No matter how real this was, it was nothing but a dream. Nothing but a facade that will fade away into nothingness when she woke up. And she would rather wake up right at this moment than bask in this disillusionment. Enjoying this moment, then waking up to realize that it had all been a lie was too much pain to bear- Something which she didn't think she could handle.

'Wake up...'

'What?'

'Wake up, damm it...'

Her voice was muffled as she whispered into Teresa's stomach that her face was gently pressed against. She desperately needed to get out of this place before all her emotions just burst out of her.

'What are you saying Clare? What's wrong?'

'You're not real... And I need to wake up from this dream...'

'Whatever gave you that idea? On normal circumstances I would feel insulted to be deemed as 'unreal' but... You're so sure that I'm not?'

Clare felt herself giving a sad smile. 'Yeah, that's the one and only thing that is certain right now... Because Teresa's gone.'

She gulped as she mentioned Teresa's name. Her voice came out at a higher pitch, characteristic of her adolescent years. This whole set up was messing with her mind and her heart- But she could still at least differentiate what was real and what was not.

'Please...just wake up...'

Blinking the tears that has accumulated at her eyes, she pleaded desperately to her own mind, hoping that any moment he would find herself back in the North, no matter how much her heart deep down wanted to stay here for awhile, in this facade, together with this pseudo Teresa that was probably nothing more than a creation of her imagination.

'So...what can I do to make you believe that I am Teresa?'

Another humourless smile from Clare. 'You can't. She's gone. And this is a dream.'

'I don't know what's going on in your mind right now but… What if this was more than just a dream? What if I'm really _me_? Believe me won't you, Clare?'

Of course she wanted to believe that it was true. The warmth that she was getting from the embrace, the familiar scent, it could _only _be Teresa. But how could it be happening? How could it be...

With every passing moment, she could feel her resolve wavering. Her fight to resist this dream was a losing battle- A battle which she knew from the start that she couldn't win. Because her heart was conflicting with her mind. Because in the very first place, she _wanted_ this whole thing to be true. She _wanted_ this to be the real Teresa.

Clare felt the figure bend down to match her height, their faces levelling. She forced herself to face downwards, knowing that any last strand of resolve would be dissolved into naught at the sight of Teresa's face at close proximity.

'Clare... Just look at me, won't you? Look at me...and try telling yourself that this is not real. That I'm not real.'

Refusing to look up, she concentrated on a spot on the wooden plank, feeling more confused than ever. The silence between them was so unnerving, but she was determined to keep her head down, even as any sort of determination in her was dwindling.

'Clare.'

Involuntarily, her eyes darted up at the sound of Teresa's voice after much silence.

_Damn_. Before she could stop herself, she was already staring into those silver orbs that stared back into her own, almost as if they were the windows to Teresa's soul, and hers, to her own. Observing every feature on her face, knowing that only the real Teresa could give her this feeling that was overwhelming her at this moment, only served to break down the last of her walls.

'Is it... really you...Teresa?...'

Her throat was so constricted that she could hardly force the words out. She wanted it to be real, but she was so unsure, so filled with disbelief that this could be happening.

'…more than you can ever imagine or dream of, Clare.'

That was really, and truly, the last straw for Clare. The floodgates entirely opened as she felt her brimming tears escape from her eyes. The first of her sobs was forced out of her throat, and then subsequent ones erupted, all the pent up sorrow, pain and desperation screaming to be released. Slowly she wrapped her shaking arms around Teresa's head, burying her face in the nape of Teresa's neck. Her body fell limp against the strong and unwavering figure that supported her weight while she bawled and cried. It was just, she had held back _so_ much for _so_ long. The fact that Teresa was right_ here_ with her, was too much to handle. She wanted to just hold her tight and never, ever let go _ever _again. In truth, even though she still wasn't entirely convinced, at this very moment she no longer cared if this was a dream, or an imaginary illusion- The only thing that was true at this moment was that Teresa was _right_ here.

Teresa held her in that position until her sobs had resided to almost nothing. It was long since she felt all the emotions inside awaken so strongly like this. Teresa was the first to pull apart and she saw the gentle and understanding smile on Teresa's face. She had missed this face, this person so, so much. She felt Teresa's thumb wipe the tear tracts on her face.

'Now now...looks like you're still the little kid that you were even after all these years. Even though you're a grown-up now!'

Having calmed down after much incessant sobbing, she sniffed at the light teasing and wiped at her own bleary eyes.

'Yeah, I guess... And besides, I'm back to my child body so, can't blame me for that.'

Teresa smirked. 'Guess I can't huh. You were always such crybaby after all.'

She pouted in feign annoyance at Teresa. They both looked at each other in amusement before breaking into wide smiles. These happy and light feelings that Clare was experiencing now, seemed so far away and she still couldn't believe that she could actually feel them again.

Her arms encircled Teresa as she hugged her tightly again, her head resting on Teresa's shoulders.

'I've missed you so much Teresa..'

'I've missed you too, Clare.'

She closed her eyes and sighed, allowing herself to enjoy Teresa's hold. She had missed Teresa's touch, Teresa's smell, Teresa's mere _presence_- This form of emotional bonding with someone so precious to her. She wanted nothing more than to hug Teresa in silence and just, bask in this feeling that only Teresa could give her. But there were burning questions that were bugging her mind, so much so that she had to pursue them first.

'But... Why am I here? Why are_ you_ here? You said that you are real, and I guess I sort of believe that already but... How is that even possible? Where exactly am I? It feels too real to be dream, yet this obviously cannot be reality…Well, unless I'm dead of course.'

She found herself being lifted entirely off the ground by Teresa's strong arms and placed on the bed that she had woken up on. It was almost amusing that she was once again back to a size that could be carried so easily. Teresa then sat herself beside her.

'Well... To tell the truth, I'm equally stumped about what this place actually is. Though my best guess would be that this is something like my subconscious world?'

'Teresa's subconscious world...?'

'I can't really explain why, but it just feels like it. In a sense, I feel like I've been here ever since I…well died. Right after that, I suddenly found myself in this place, with you lying on my lap. You seemed to be merely sleeping, but I just couldn't seem to wake you up. But somehow, I had the feeling that I just had to sit back and wait. And eventually you did wake up. Who knows, perhaps this is what happens when a person dies? You stay in your subconscious mind till you meet the person you need to meet… Not that I'm too sure about all these but, you know that each person's subconscious contains all the past memories and experiences the person ever had? Perhaps there's this manifestation of our own 'world' in our own mind- A place where we feel most comfortable and where we feel the most belonging to. It sounds abstract but that's just how I interpret the current situation.'

Clare thought about the grassland that she found herself in previously. Was that her subconscious world?  
That place was indeed a very dear place to her, after all. A place where she had felt like she belonged to. It was the landscape of the fields behind the village she came from. It had been a place where she once felt she could just lie in the fields for eternity and not care about anything in the world. That had all been before the youma came and crushed her old life.

Above all, that place would only be complete with Teresa there with her. Because the only place she would ever consider to be home was where Teresa was. And Teresa _had _been thereearlier on_.  
_  
'So this town that we stayed at... is your subconscious?'

That brought a gentle smile and crinkle of Teresa's eyes. 'Remember, I initially said that we would be staying here for quite awhile? I really intended it to be so, if not for the turn of events. This was really a lovely place. A place where I felt that I could put everything behind, however fleetingly, and just live freely and peacefully. Most of all, to live together with you. I guess since it was the last place of genuine happiness that I really felt, it morphed into my subconscious.'

'So how long have you been… waiting here?'

Teresa gave a thoughtful look.

'I can't really be sure. I just remember sitting here, thinking about things that happened in my life, and then suddenly you came around. How long has it passed… in your world?'

'Many years…'

_Many years of painful existence without you. _

'I see… I suppose this is a place where time doesn't flow the same way as the real world.'

Clare nodded absent-mindedly, before a sad notion entered her head.

'I guess this isn't going to last very long right? It feels like a miracle so far… Probably any moment now, my real body is going to wake up, and all of these will be gone. You will be gone… Unless I'm actually dead already. That doesn't seem like such a bad thought if I could just stay with you here…'

She suddenly yelped as she felt a painful flick at her forehead.

'I hope that was painful enough to get that negativity out of you, seriously! I don't think you're dead, though. Call it an instinct of the dead, but you're probably just unconscious. Speaking of which, what happened to you before you woke up here?'

'I was sparring with one of my comrades… and there was a rockslide. I think I didn't get out of the way in time.'

'Careless girl…'

She felt Teresa's hand on her cheek, a rather bittersweet smile hanging on her lips.

'Based on how you reacted just now and what you just said, I guess you're one of us now too…'

Instantly, she felt the crushing weight in her chest heavier than ever as it dawned upon her what Teresa was referring to.

'You're disappointed, aren't you?'

She looked away from Teresa to stare forlornly at the wooden flooring.

'I mean… I guess you must be. I'm... I'm sorry that I became a warrior against your will. I know you would never have wanted this.'

She felt the hand on her face moving to slip over her small petite ones, wrapping around them reassuringly.

'For one, I don't regret making this choice. Back then, when my world crashed into pieces, it was the only way for me to keep on living. I had to find a purpose, a meaning, a drive to carry on. If I were to live, I had to find a way to move forward- And that motivation was to avenge you. I wasn't strong enough to just forget all that had happened and keep on living as if my world hadn't been torn apart. So it was the only viable choice that my child-self could think of, at that moment of loss and despair.

Of course, to a certain extent, death had been a pretty attractive option too. There would probably be no hurt, no pain, no feelings to bear... But I didn't believe that death would lead me to a better place, or rather, lead me to you. Because if death was such a glorious salvation, if death could simply allow people to reunite with lost loved ones, why would people, having lost people precious to them, choose to struggle through such an anguished existence?

And I couldn't forgive Priscilla for what she had done. Above all, I couldn't forgive myself...for being so weak, so pathetically helpless that I couldn't do anything. So I chose to live with this torment...so that one day I could take vengeance for you. It was the only thing that I could think of doing at that time. And once I stepped in to the Organization, there was no turning back...

But I guess ultimately, it was probably something which you would not have approved of, something which you would be completely, utterly disappointed in. After all, all you wanted was for me to live and die as a human being. And yet I went against those wishes, and ended up being…a monster.

Perhaps, you would think you can still love me because I've somehow returned to this child body of mine. That girl, little Clare, she still had some innocence to be salvaged, some hope in her heart. But that girl… she doesn't exist anymore. She changed, and she grew to become this monster that sometimes even she herself cannot recognize. Driven by the sole desire of killing that one-horned monster, with no other meaning in her life…'

She lifted the side of her lips sadly. 'This person, this grown-up Clare, is no longer the little girl you knew… Little Clare could bring you happiness and hope. This Clare right here now is only an abyss of disappointment for you…'

The horrible, terrible feeling in her chest was so suffocating. She didn't even dare to lift her head to meet Teresa's eyes. She couldn't and didn't want to face the disappointment of someone she held so dearly in her heart.

Yet, she felt Teresa's fingers tilt her head up to face hers, followed by a light squeeze of her hand. In place of the utter disappointment she had expected, those eyes only softened and shone with such melancholy and empathy. She ruffled her orange strands and returned the sad smile.

'Is that... really what you felt all these years? Apart from all the loneliness and sorrow... You still had to shoulder the guilt of the thought of disappointing me?'

Teresa removed her hand from Clare's head and reached for the girl's other hand. Clare could feel the firm yet gentle hold of Teresa's hand and a calming feeling spread from her hand to the rest of her body as Teresa moved her thumb up and down in a soothing motion. She stared intently into Clare's eyes, her voice soft as she spoke.

'First off, you are _not_ a monster, and will _never_ be in my eyes. I thought that was a given, seeing as you never once saw me as one.

And secondly…I could and would never, _ever_, be disappointed in you for whatever choices you made, Clare. Especially not something that you had such little options in. You were just a small child at that time... Yet, you had to make a decision pertaining to your entire future- A child forced to grow beyond her age and face the hardship of the cruel world. It was true that I wanted you to continue living as a human being. I wished for you to do so because I felt that it was the only way you could live safely and happily for the rest of your life. But not if it would make living a worse fate than death, not if it potentially forces you onto the path of taking your own life. If becoming a warrior was what allowed you to carry on, no matter how much more torment you had to go undergo, it was the best choice that you could have made under those circumstances.

You were not wrong to make such a choice, Clare. If anyone was to blame... I was. I was the reason why you had to become a warrior. I let my guard down at the last moment and left you all alone in this world to struggle. And in the end you had to pay the price of my mista-'

'No it wasn't your fault! Don't ever say that!'

Clare found herself gripping Teresa's hand indignantly, quite disturbed that Teresa felt that way.

'When... when I met Irene, she told me that it was because of the time we spent together that softened your heart as a warrior, causing you to be lenient with Priscilla and ultimately leading to...your death.'

Her last few words were barely a whisper and she tried to choke those painful words out. Teresa's death wasn't an easy topic. It was in fact, probably one of the things that she would never share in detail with anyone. Other than to Teresa. She felt tears resurfacing as guilt overwhelmed her.

'So in the end, I'm still the one that caused all the dreadful things that happened to you. Everything was _my _fault, mine and mine solely. If...if only you hadn't met me, you… you would've-'

'Would've what, lived as the finest, most ruthless and successful warrior the Organization created? Continue my existence that held no meaning, other than blindly following orders and exterminating youma? I totally would have preferred that, Clare.'

Teresa exhaled deeply and wiped gently at Clare's tearful eyes. Clare felt her whole body shaking under her gentle touch as the choked sobs threatened to burst out again.

'Clare, don't you understand? You gave me life. You helped me retrieve what I thought I had lost- my humanity. You made me realize that as much as I was a warrior, a half-monster, I could still be as human as I used to be. You rekindled those emotions that were long locked away inside of me... You showed me what it meant to love unconditionally, and to be loved so whole-heartedly by someone. You showed me all of these, Clare.

I can't deny that I become softer after the time we had together. When I was about to make my final move on Priscilla in this town, all I could see in my mind was your face- The face of a young, innocent, ill-fated girl. So despite the threat that Priscilla would pose in the future, given her monstrous latent potential, I just couldn't bear to end the life of a young girl that was merely a product of manipulation by the Organization. And when she begged for her life… I actually showed mercy because I felt something inside... Sympathy, perhaps.

But so what if it did lead to my downfall? All of it would be worth getting to know you, and being with you, Clare. The time with you was one of the happiest and most humane period of my entire life. You brought back meaning to my existence, or rather, you _became_ the reason for my existence. You meant so much even though our time together was so short... And is that not reason enough for me to meet you? The one person who made such an indelible difference in my life?

We all have to make difficult choices in life, Clare. Well maybe for me it wasn't exactly a dilemma. Walking away from the Organization and choosing to live the rest of my life with you came more naturally than I thought it would. But the point is, no matter what painful times came with your decisions, if you know that deep down that was _your_ right choice, then you have nothing to regret. I for one, never regretted defecting from the Organization to be with you. So don't feel sad about it. Don't blame yourself either. Unless you mean to say, you regretted meeting me?'

'Of course not... Oh Teresa...'

Clare went forward to hug Teresa tightly again, blinking away the last of her tears. No matter the situation, Teresa never failed to make her feel better. She felt so comforted by Teresa's words and just, so safe in her arms. It reminded her of why this person was the most important person in her life.

'And who said that you can't be the little Clare that I knew anymore? Just because people grow and change doesn't mean that they aren't the person that they were before. Your personality, appearance, maturity and what not may have changed- But what will never change is you being _Clare_. The unique feature of you that makes you, _you_. That, will never, and can never ever be replaced. I can still see it in you, that innocence, that purity, that loving compassionate soul. It might seem to have been locked deep down in the tresses of your soul, but it is definitely there. Besides, it doesn't matter even if you have changed. The one and only thing you need to know is that I'll _always_ love you no matter what happens.'

Clare sniffed and tightened her hold on Teresa, wanting to keep those words and this moment for eternity.

'Now now... I'm not going anywhere for now so no need to choke me to death so soon you know. That's if you can choke the _dead_ dead of course.'

Clare broke away and gave a frown smile at Teresa, who grinned teasingly back. Wiping at her tear-stricken face, she suddenly felt exhausted from all the crying and heart-to-heart talk. Most of all, she almost felt as if a literal rock was lifted from her chest and she felt so, so relieved. She shifted herself to lean against Teresa's shoulders contently, feeling as if there was nothing in the world that could trouble or harm her ever again. With Teresa by her side, her world was complete, no matter how ephemeral these moments might be.

'So…what's going to happen now?'

'Well honestly, I have no idea either. I mean, first you suddenly woke up, and then you're a grown up Clare in a little Clare's body… Who knows what's going to happen next? Mysteries and miracles indeed. I would think that the only thing we can do is to just sit and wait to see what comes next.'

Clare was in agreement. That seemed to be the only option they had now anyway.

'Well if you're bored, we could always talk about things. Especially about your whole life till now. I missed out on every part of your life that I wanted to be part of, after all.'

'Alright… But, Teresa?'

'Hmm?'

'Can we just... stay like that for awhile longer? I want to just… be with you like that for awhile.'

She felt Teresa's head leaning on hers.

'Of course we can... Clare.'

Clare beamed as she felt Teresa's hand holding hers tightly as she closed her eyes and leaned entirely on Teresa's shoulder. She really wanted to cherish this moment wholly and entirely- To truly feel this feeling in every cell of her body. This feeling that can only be described as... _bliss_.

* * *

Happy new year to all!


End file.
